


death is gonna catch up to all one day

by orphan_account



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Animal Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 06:45:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9589349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The older man opens his grayish blue eyes and he feels his dog to becold.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this was for the gen prompt bingo with the wild card. i chose the prompt pets because why not.

Viktor and Yuuri share a love for dogs. Viktor has always liked poodles, and that's why he got Makkachin when he turned eighteen-- Makkachin is almost twelve now, and Viktor feels as if his death is lowering nearer and nearer. It's like a ticking clock, almost, telling him his pet, his companion, is going to die. Yuuri is there, and he'll help him once Makkachin dies. He fears for that day, though, and it's a terrible feeling in his gut. He wants the poodle to live forever, to be with him until he's in his deathbed-- he knows it's not possible, but he wishes, he wishes, he wishes.

One day Yuuri and Viktor are sleeping together, their breath mingled together and Makkachin between both of them in a perfect dog sandwich. The older man opens his grayish blue eyes and he feels his dog to be cold, Panic flares in his gaze when he realizes, in the haze of his sleepy state, that Makkachin isn't breathing or moving or doing anything. He prods Yuuri with his hand until he opens his eyes, and his eyes fall on Makkachin. He looks peaceful, his tongue poking out of his mouth, his unruly fur the same as always.

But he isn't breathing, and when Viktor tentatively looks for his heartbeat he finds nothing. Fear is clear in his eyes as he starts crying; he cries and sobs and whimpers as Yuuri pushes him closer. Viktor buries his face on Yuuri's chest as he keeps sobbing uncontrollably, the thought of his dog, his companion being dead simply terrible. He gets off Yuuri to look at Makkachin. He bites his lip before prodding him with one hand, and when he doesn't respond-- it's like a dead weight-- he tears up again.

"Makkachin, no, y-you can't," he stutters, the word 'die' drowned out by his sobs. Yuuri gets up from the bed, even though he looks almost as affected as Viktor is. For these three years he's been with Viktor, he knows he loves Makkachin so, so much. It's like when Vicchan died; the same overwhelming emotions controlled Yuuri when his dog, the dog he had named over Viktor, died. It's a bitter taste on their mouths, the feeling that they'll never feel their dog in their lap or licking their face anymore. "Why?" Viktor says. "Why?"

Yuuri takes the dead weight of Makkachin's corpse in his arms. He leans down to kiss Viktor, and the older man doesn't seem to react. He looks at the dog's lifeless body, and the air seems to be robbed from his lungs. He never saw Vicchan's corpse-- when he came back from Detroit they had long time cremated him. But he knows the helpless feeling to know your pet is dead and that nothing will make them come back. It's asphyxiating, it's terrible, and Yuuri can almost feel that Viktor just wants to have Makkachin again.

Viktor's hand passes along Makkachin's fur, and he sighs. He sounds so wounded, like he just got out of a war-- with himself, with the world, perhaps. Yuuri kisses him again, mutters a vague 'I'm sorry' before heading to the garden. Viktor's house is spacious, and there's a big backyard there, and he knows he has to bury Makkachin before Viktor takes a grip on the corpse and doesn't let him go. He remembers dark nights where he'd look at pictures of Vicchan and when he'd stay at the place with Vicchan's ashes for hours.

He knows how heartbreaking it is for your pet to die. But he has to help Viktor. He's retired from ice skating at age twenty-nine, and Yuuri had defeated him when he was both his coach and his rival. Viktor now teaches English at a school in St. Petersburg, a definitely odd job for someone who trained his whole life for being a figure skater.

Yuuri looks at Makkachin's body with more scrutiny-- there's no blood or blue tongue or anything that indicates how he died. Deep down, though, he knows it's for his old age-- poodles usually have a lifespan of twelve to sixteen years. Makkachin was going to die soon, and it's happened, and Yuuri still feels so powerless. He wishes he could change this.

Viktor in some moment appears at his side and helps him bury the pet. Yuuri shovels the dirt out of the way until there's enough space for Makkachin and enough length for it to be an actual tomb. When they're two feet in, Viktor nods and Yuuri stops. He lets Makkachin fall on the poorly made hole and he hears Viktor's faint sobs as he looks at his puppy. He mutters something intellegible in Russian and Yuuri bites his lip before he starts putting the dirt back where it belongs.

"I'll miss you, Makkachin," he says, and Viktor hugs him from behind before he continues shoveling the dirt back in. He almost trips face-first into the dirt where Makkachin is buried, but he doesn't. Viktor mutters an 'I'm sorry' in Russian and Yuuri nods almost imperceptibly.

The next few days, Viktor doesn't seem to talk at all. It's his students' holidays, so he doesn't have to worry about teaching in this depressed state. He stays in bed the whole day, Yuuri bringing him water and food. He knows what it's like to be so deep in your brain you can't get up in the morning. He knows the feeling too well.

"You'll be alright," Yuuri tells him, his voice full of worry. He just wants to believe that, that Viktor will heal over time and end okayish. But Makkachin was his friend, his companion for over a decade, and he can't imagine how painful the dog's death is.

"I won't," Viktor says, his eyes teary and his hands on the sheets. "I won't, Yuuri. I don't know what to do now that Makkachin is dead," he mumbles.

Yuuri kisses him, and Viktor is almost drunk on the taste of Yuuri's lips against his own. He wants to feel alive again.

What feels like years later, Viktor starts getting out of bed. It's two hour breaks from the depression than being in bed doing nothing brings him. He cuddles with Yuuri while watching TV and he cries softly into his chest sometimes. He goes to Makkachin's grave every few days, and he cries everytime. He wants his dog to be okay, to be fine.

But Makkachin isn't— he's dead.

In some moment Yuuri and him go back to ice skating, mostly for relief reasons. Yuuri retired a year after Viktor did, and now he works as a physical therapist. He doesn't have a lot of patients, though, so he usually stays home with Viktor, especially since he needs the support.

Viktor is as magnificent in the ice as always, his jumps great and with a nice height, his step sequence breathtaking. He falls on his second jump while he's messing around the rink, and he's frowning through the whole thing as he keeps skating.

"Hey, hey," Yuuri says as he takes off his skates and puts sneakers instead. "You messed up, Viktor, but that's alright," he says, his voice sickly sweet.

Viktor scoffs but doesn't say anything.

The older man spends too much time on the backyard, looking at Makkachin's tomb, but Yuuri doesn't stop him. It continues that way, Viktor's depressive state clear as water before it's September and school starts again.

Yuuri goes to his workplace as a physical therapist while Viktor goes to work as an English teacher. When they come home, they cuddle and kiss and are generally mushy.

Viktor learns to live without Makkachin, slowly, and Yuuri loves him so much for being so strong.


End file.
